Choices
Screaming at the Storm This was one of those days, it turned out to be one of those nights too. So here I am at two A.M. , a diabetic eating one sugar cookie after another and writing this. I’ve been upset all day because people I know and care for are getting hurt. I feel like going out to an open field and scream while shaking my fists at God. It’s not his fault of course, it’s satan hurting my loved ones but God allows it. I don’t know why, and with my tiny mind I probably wouldn’t understand if He explained it. All I can do is believe that He has a good reason. That isn’t easy; in fact it might be harder than seeing my loved ones hurting. I wish I could just know it; that would be easier because knowing and believing are two entirely different things. I know that behind me there is a little table full of opened books with notes scattered around. I know this because I saw it five minutes ago. I know that these cookies that I’m eating have nine grams of sugar per four cookies because I read the label. I know they can put me into a coma, I remember from the memory of what happened to my grandmother. Knowing doesn’t require anything but knowledge. Believing, now that’s another thing. I can’t know that God is there and cares, there is no proof and there is nothing that can sense or measure Him. I can’t define Him by using logic, in the first place logic is concept that man thought up and therefore is fallible, in the second place God is the most illogical being in existence. He does things that make no sense at all to us. He is pure passion, His actions and perspectives stupefy us. No, He can’t be found by looking for proof, there isn’t any. The only way to find Him is that intangible thing we call faith. We can’t get to understand Him until we know Him, we can’t know Him until we have faith, we can’t have faith until we study His love letters to us. We collectively call them the Bible, but that’s what they are, an account of his love for us and the lengths He will go to for us. Even if we read the account of what He went through for us a thousand times we still won’t grasp the event; all we can do if we really try hard is to catch faint glimpses. He who is perfect in all ways and who rules everything everywhere came here into this filthy smelly grimy little planet to save us from our own actions. He didn’t even come in all His glory, riding a lightening bolt and heralded by a million servants. He didn’t even come as a powerful king; He came instead as a tiny person who came out of another person in a tiny little place within another tiny place. He is the highest of the high, yet He came here as the lowest of the low for us. He even gave up His divinity for us. He came in the form of a man, in the form of His son, for us.  Then He allowed us to beat Him, to spit on Him, to mock Him, and to strip Him and humiliate Him. He let us drive nails through his wrists and feet. He screamed “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani” then He died, all for us or rather because if us. Oh the events are all there to be read, several movies made that want to imply they have it accurately, and more sermons written about it than can be counted. But all of them together can’t cover what He went through. We can read accounts of driving nails through wrists but we can’t know what it feels like. We read about a rude crown made of thorns and pressed on His head as an insult, but we can’t know what it felt like. We can’t know what it felt to hang there in front of who knows how many onlookers naked with blood running into his eyes already full of tears. Read it a million times, you still won’t know. I do know that it must have certainly been the worst day in his life, which is eternal. I believe that He suffered through His worst day so we wouldn’t have to suffer through our worst eternity. I know that if He didn’t love us more than we can understand He certainly wouldn’t have went through that. I think we can know it because all it takes is common sense. He did what He did so that if these cookies kill me I won’t have to spend eternity suffering. The worst I’ll have to go through is a coma, which isn’t bad, I know from personal experience. I could end up with bad eyesight or losing limbs, but even that is better than suffering forever. By the way I put my cookies away. It’s silly to damage myself when He thinks so much of me. I don’t know why one of my loved ones has an immature husband that brings her so many tears. I don’t know why my mom is diabetic and has a bad heart. I can’t understand why my wife, a devout Christian woman has to cry herself to sleep at night because of pain due to arthritis. It escapes me how a family I know and care for who are good faithful Christians have lost a son in law, have a daughter in law sick, and a mother who has had a brain tumor and yet still exhibit a strength that I can’t imagine. I don’t know why spouses cheat on spouses and rapists rape and killers kill. I don’t know why innocent children have to sleep in ditches and under bridges. I don’t understand why they’re allowed to die in streets forgotten and starved. Why children and women and sometimes men are allowed to be abused and beaten to death is an enraging mystery. I don’t know why injustice and hate are allowed to spread over every inch of this planet. It escapes me why there must be tears. But I believe in my heart that God sees and mourns over every injustice. I believe that He keeps an account of every abuse, blow, punch, hurtful word, and everything that ends in tears. If the few people I know are hurting affect me so deeply, how much does seeing everything, every tear, every drop of blood, every sore arm and limping leg, every cancerous body, every bad heart, pancreas, lungs, liver, and the list goes on affect Him? How can He who is love in its purest form suffer through hearing every scream, every cry, every tear (yes, I think He can hear tears), every muffled sob over the thousands of years? Only the strength of God could survive that. I couldn’t. I question why He who is all powerful can allow all of this. But who am I to question Him? How can quantum mechanics be explained to a year old child? It can’t, all the child can do is trust those who know more to take care of them and make every thing right. And that’s what God did, He eliminated the situation where we scream “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani” which means ‘My God My God, why have you forsaken me?’ He had to hear that once, I don’t think He ever wants to hear it again. We have to keep three necessary facts in mind, with those we can usually manage to persevere. What we call life, what we know of as existence, is only a microsecond in eternity. Anything that seems forever full of pain here will be completely forgotten once we walk through the gates of heaven. He is acutely aware of everything that hurts His children and He keeps an account of every injury of body mind and soul. He will, when the time is right, make everything that was wrong right; everything down to the tiniest injury. We have to believe that He will never leave or forsake us, He tells us that He wont, He gives us His word. His word is never broken. Our task is to believe in Him, to endure, to look forward, to persevere, and to spread the message all the way with every means we have.  PS: Thank you, Marlin, my friend, your strength has gotten me through dark days and darker nights. I am extending an invitation now inviting you to my place when we get to heaven so we can have a footrace with some antelope,  PPS: Damn you satan, I hate you with every fiber of my being! I hate you for all the pain and suffering you caused. I hate it that you use my weakness to hurt others. I hope with all my heart that I’m there to see you get what you deserve.
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